


The Hunt For Tact in Its Natural Habitat

by hecatehatesthat



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-19
Updated: 2010-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecatehatesthat/pseuds/hecatehatesthat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Which Rukia's Delicate Flower of Womanhood Blooms, Ichigo is Generally Useless, and Orihime Saves the Day</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunt For Tact in Its Natural Habitat

**The Hunt for Tact in its Natural Habitat**

_I. In Which Rukia’s Delicate Flower of Womanhood Blooms, Ichigo is Generally Useless, and Orihime Saves the Day_

 

 

There are some among the great and varied Gods of Death who would find living in the closet of a human boy an insult to their dignity.  Kuchiki Rukia was not one of them. 

 

Not even when a rude awakening (Ichigo flinging Kon – or Kon flinging himself – at her door, Ichigo bellowing at his father’s violent wake-up call, and the inevitable series of clunks and crashes that followed, Ichigo banging on her door and ordering her to come out and have her breakfast) triggered her godly reflexes and she sat up to thwack her head on the shelf above her at full shinigami speed. Well – shinigami-in-gigai speed, anyway, and only when the stupid body was functioning properly.

 

Which, apparently, was not _this _morning. 

 

The malfunction woke her early, but little earlier than she usually got up (at least when strange dreams didn’t keep her until the chaos of morning in the Kurosaki household pulled her forcefully from them); it was early enough to avoid a fresh head injury, but not to sneak out Ichigo’s window before the day’s hijinks started, when she noticed the blood.

 

She felt it smeared, warm and sticky, on her thighs and, sitting up cautiously, whispered the demon arts incantation to call up the little light by which she got through the more complicated parts of putting on human clothing in the mornings (and by which she was working her way through all the manga Ichigo thought was hidden under the clothes in his closet).  There was a small, dark stain on her stolen pajamas.  She swore softly at the sight.  She knew how to get blood out of clothes; Ichigo had shown her after her school uniform had gotten all bloodied by the Hollow with those disgusting exploding leeches – he’d washed her shirt in the bathroom sink while she sat on the toilet, healing the wounds she could reach, the ones Ichigo hadn’t already bandaged for her, and listening to him as he scrubbed her shirt, alternately explaining about cold water and kinds of soap and cursing her for being stupid enough to get hurt, and for being a girl and preventing him from just throwing her uniform in the wash with his own – but it wasn’t the stain itself that concerned her.  Her body was bleeding – the evidence was right there on Yuzu’s plaid pajama-bottoms – but Rukia had no wound she was aware of, and felt no pain.  That must be part of the malfunction as well. 

 

She would have to get to Urahara’s this morning, and let the greedy bastard give her the full diagnostic he’d been trying to sell her since she’d gone in for more soma fixers.  It would be easier if she didn’t have to explain this to Ichigo – she considered slipping out right then, making the run across town in her sleeping garments, but before she had even reached for the closet door she heard the bang of Ichigo’s bedroom door being flung open as his father kicked off the violence with an over-enthusiastic “Goooooood morning!”

 

Rukia sighed and began to quietly change into her school uniform.

 

* * *

 

 “Rukia!  Breakfast!” Ichigo rapped his knuckles on the closet door, not quite yelling.  She flung the door open almost instantly, sunny school-day smile already in place.  Ichigo took a wary step back.  “What’s with you?”

 

“What are you talking about?” she said, leaping out past him and grabbing a rice ball off the plate he was holding as she went by.  “Really, Ichigo, always assuming the worst is not good for a human's health."

 

Before he could even snark a reply about her worrying about his health, she was through the window and gone.  Ichigo blinked at the open window for a moment, then shrugged and stuffed the other rice ball – whole – in his mouth. 

 

* * *

 

"Wonderful news, Kuchiki-san!  Your gigai is functioning perfectly!  Even better than expected, and that is saying something – it is a wonderfully well-made gigai, you know."  Urahara enthused, grinning his innocent evil grin at her. 

 

"That is not good news, you greedy bastard," she answered, glowering at Urahara and tugging at the robe he'd left her to wear while he analyzed the results of the decidedly unpleasant examination she'd had to sit through.  "I just spent an obscene amount of credits for you to torture me for an hour.  And now you tell me that not only can you not fix this body, you don't even know what's wrong."

 

Behind that insufferable fan, Urahara wore an overly genuine look of distress.  "I assure you, Kuchiki-san, the scan was well worth your money!  Your problem is not with your gigai.  It is synching up very well with your spiritual body.  In fact…"  here his sly grin returned.  "If I may, I would suggest you ask some of your human friends about your… difficulty."

 

"I do not have human friends."

 

"Oh no?"  Rukia could have sworn she saw his eyes glinting under the shadow of his hat.  "I didn't think the boy was so possessive."

 

"I am a shinigami," she snapped.  "I will take my clothes back now."

 

"Ah, Kuchiki-san's school uniform, of course!"  Urahara bowed, fan pressed over an obvious smirk, and backed out of the room.  Ururu entered with Rukia's uniform a moment later, offering solemnly to help her put it on. 

 

Rukia snatched her clothes out of the little girl's hands, and snapped that she did not need any help.  Then she glared until Ururu left.

 

* * *

She made it to the school building shortly before lunch.  As she made her way to her seat, she slipped him a note: _Ichigo, I need to speak with you_.

 

She spent the next twenty minutes reminding herself that Kuchikis do not fidget, and glaring at Ichigo – who looked back at her once or twice with what-the-hell-is-your-problem-I-didn't-do-anything!-face – until the bell rang. 

 

He got up from his desk and strode toward the classroom door without sparing her a glance.  She made to follow, but two steps from the door was accosted by Inoue.  "Is Kuchiki-san feeling all right?  You came so late today!" She cried, seizing Rukia's arm and looking at her with enormous concerned grey eyes.

 

"My Orihime is so compassionate!"  That crazy pink-haired girl – Chizuru? the loud way she shadowed Inoue reminded Rukia a little of the vice-captain of the 11th division – yelled as the rest of the girls in the class swarmed up around them. 

 

Ichigo paused in the doorway, glancing back at her and rolling his eyes.  She shrugged, and he kept walking.

 

* * *

 

He was sitting alone in a corner of the roof when he heard her walk up behind him. "Are you going to tell me why you've been acting crazier than usual all day?" he said, not looking up from his lunch.

 

She _hmph_ed and sat down next to him.  He watched her out of the corner of his eye, folding her arms and glaring into the distance.  "Something is wrong with my gigai.  Urahara… implied… that it's something… human."

 

He frowned.  "What does that mean?"

 

She turned sharply, focusing her glare on him.  "How should I know!"

 

He took a bite of his sandwich.  "Well, what's the problem with the gigai that you had to rush off to see Sandal-Hat this morning?"

 

"It's… bleeding."

 

He stopped chewing. "_What?_  Where?"  He leaned toward her, squinting, trying to see where she was injured.

 

Then she pointed.

 

He felt all the blood drain out of his face.  "You – "  was all he could get out before his voice choked and died. 

 

"Ichigo!  What is it?!"  She bent forward, leaning on her hands and staring up into his face, dark eyes wide.  "Am I dying?"

 

Ichigo couldn't answer.  Or move.  Oh, he knew what the problem was, but – but –

"Why is your face that color?"

 

He tried to make himself speak, but all that came out was a strangled grunt.

 

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad," she frowned.  Then she poked him in the head.  "Ichigo!  Should we go to your father?  He's a doctor, right?  Perhaps he'll know –"

 

His father! Ichigo had a sudden vision of Isshin, tears pouring down his face and flowers shining in the air behind him as he explained to Rukia all about the Delicate Flower of Womanhood and the Joy of its Blossoming and loudly congratulating her on this wondrous occasion… and then un-subtly nudging Ichigo to be careful now that –

 

Ichigo badly wished he were the kind of person who fainted.  He was considering faking it when Rukia kicked him in the head. 

 

"OWW!  What the fuck was that for?" 

 

"Stop acting like YOU are the one who's dying, moron!  Tell me what is wrong!"  She towered over him, hands on her hips.

 

He cringed, still holding his head where she'd kicked him.  "Er… yeah.  It's not… well, you're not _dying_, anyway, stupid.  You just have to – er – come on."  He got up and started walking back toward the door into the school, striding right past Chad and Keigo and Mizuiro without glancing their way.  Rukia followed, half jogging to keep up.

 

"Where are we going?" she demanded.

 

"To find Tastu – crap.  No.  She'll be… Inoue.  We've got to get Inoue alone, she won't realize how weird it is you don't know."

 

Rukia stopped walking.  "I do not understand why _you _can't just tell me… or why you turn pink every time I ask!"

 

"It's a girl thing!" He snapped.  "And I am not turning pink!"

 

* * *

 

They found Inoue outside.  Ichigo was muttering to himself about how to get her away from Arisawa, but Rukia was fairly sure he wasn't actually coming up with anything, so she yelled, "Inoue-saaaan!  Could you come over here for a minute?" and waved, smiling cheerfully.

 

Beside her, Ichigo froze.  But Inoue was getting up – for a moment it looked like Arisawa was going to get up with her, but Inoue, smiling, waved her back down, and trotted over to Rukia and Ichigo.

 

"Oh, Kuchiki-san, Kurosaki-kun found you!  You disappeared on the stairs!  I thought you… Is everything okay?" she asked, still smiling.

 

Ichigo said stiffly, "Ru– Kuchiki has her… has _feminine problems_."

 

Inoue frowned.  "…Oh?"

 

Rukia could hear Ichigo grinding his teeth.  "Could you help**.** her**.** with**.** that?"

 

"I – I'll be happy to try!  What do you need, Kuchiki-san?"  She smiled uncertainly.

 

Ichigo didn't answer.  He obviously hadn't yet decided to stop being useless, Rukia realized.  So she said though her plastic smile, "I'm afraid I'm bleeding, Inoue-san."

 

Inoue's smile faded.  "Oh no!  Was Kuchiki-san in an accident?  I don’t have any bandages – "

 

"She's not _injured_, Inoue." Ichigo growled.  He wasn't looking at them.

 

Inoue's brow furrowed slightly as she looked back and forth between Rukia and Ichigo.  Then her expression cleared, and she clapped her hands in delight.  "Oh!  I see!  Kuchiki-san needs a tampon!"  She beamed at them.

 

"A what?" said Rukia.  But Ichigo said, "_Yes._" with a relieved huff, so Rukia decided not to push.  Inoue didn't seem to be listening anymore anyway.

 

"Here, I have one with my things!" she chirped, and ran back to the circle of girls where she'd been eating, bent down for a moment, and came flying back, proudly brandishing a small white tube of paper.

 

"Ta-da!  Here you go, Kuchiki-san!  Plastic ultra-thin super absorbing capability!"  She pumped the fist that held the… thing.  "This is the Number 1 brand of tampon in Japan for teenage girls!  The applicator is bright blue!"

 

She held it out, cupped in her palms, offering it to Rukia.  Rukia eyed it skeptically.  She didn't see what this thing had to do with her malfunction.  She glanced at Ichigo for guidance, but he was even less helpful than he had been so far. Actually… he was looking a little… wobbly, and more purple now than pink.  Perhaps when the problem with her gigai was sorted out she should have his father examine _him_.

 

Inoue was still offering the… tampon, smiling brightly.  Tentatively, Rukia reached out to take it.  "Ah… thank you, Inoue-san," she said.  "Um…what do I do with it?"

 

"Huh?"  Inoue blinked at her.  "Oh – OH!  Is this Kuchiki-san's first time getting her period?"

 

Period?  What… she glanced at Ichigo again.  His scowl had faded into a look of vague horror, which Rukia took as an indication that she was getting closer to the true source of the problem.  "Yes?" she guessed.

 

"Congratulations, Kuchiki-san!" 

 

Rukia gaped.

 

"You must be so excited to finally be joining the women of the world in this experience!  You have passed the first initiation!  Soon you will truly be one of us… and then you'll be introduced to the dark side of our power, so you should enjoy this glorious time while you can!"

 

"…power?"

 

Inoue grabbed Rukia's wrist.  "Come with me to the girl's room, Kuchiki-san!  I'll show you why tampons are human kind's greatest invention, and then I can teach you the handshake!"

 

Rukia tried to remember to keep her grip on the tampon as Inoue dragged her toward the school building, chattering excitedly. 

 

* * *

 

Ichigo thought – when he could think again – of following them and hovering outside the girl's bathroom, but he'd had enough of weird for today and it wasn't like he'd be able to do anything if Inoue decided to tell Rukia anything crazy.  So when the bell rang, he went back to class and hoped they'd both return in one piece.

 

They weren't in the classroom when he got there, but he told himself that was to be expected.  They had… things… to do. 

 

22 minutes later he was clutching the edges of his desk and scowling at the clock, trying to keep himself from sprinting to the girl's bathroom to check for dead bodies.

 

He was halfway out of his seat on the 27 minute mark when they walked in.  He stared for a second, but they both looked relatively unscathed – though Rukia had the _oddest _look on her face.  Well.  At least she didn't look angry.  He sank back into his chair and tried to make his fingers let go of his desk.

 

* * *

 

He was in hell.  There was no fire and brimstone – oh no, that was far too easy!  Hell was Rukia _refusing to shut up _about her bizarre new experience in the human world as he was forced to take her to the store to spend _his _money on… things… for her.  He'd thought, for a moment, of killing himself – or her – but realized that neither plan would stop her from yakking his ear off about her newly discovered traumas as a human woman. 

 

"To think human females experience this every month for their entire lives!  It's absurd!   I hope I'm not stuck in this body so long that I'm forced to experience this more than once.  It is decidedly unpleasant."  She did a little _wriggle _then, right there in the street, like she was trying to… adjust something where things should not need to be adjusted.  Ichigo dug his fists further into his pockets and walked on, glaring straight ahead.

 

She had snagged him as soon as school let out and demanded he take her to get _supplies_.  "Apparently this isn't going to stop for a week.  We need to prepare." _He _needed to prepare, all right.  He needed earplugs.

 

"And I'm expected to just go about my life – do they realize I have to fight Hollows?  Not that I've never fought while leaking blood before, but this isn't even considered a wound!  I'm going to bleed for _five days_ and I'm supposed to think it's nothing.  Just 'wait it out,' this is what humans do.”

 

He'd tried to give her money and send her to store on her own, but she’d stared at the cash like it might bite her, and then stared at him like she suspected him of _wanting _the cash to bite her, and said, “Go to that large building with all the brightly and confusingly labeled foodstuffs on my own?  Do you _want _me to get lost and be unable to find you if a Hollow appears? And bleeding all the while!” He’d tried to protest, tried to send her to a small drugstore, to tell her he’d wait _right outside_, but all the time he'd been talking she’d been dragging him along by the jacket, heading for the only food store she’d ever actually been inside, a big one where they’d once chased a Hollow – it was near the school, and also near practically every after-school hangout Ichigo’s friends frequented.

 

He pulled up his jacket collar, ducked his head, and followed her, praying no one would recognize him.  He knew he should have brought a hat today.

 

As soon as they were inside the store, Rukia stopped in her tracks and looked up at him over her shoulder, face expectant.  They were barely out of the doorway.  He shoved her forward, out of the way of the people walking in behind them.  She stomped on his foot.

 

"AGH – stop it, idiot, you're drawing attention!"

 

She glared.  "I still don't see why _you_ should be so sensitive all of a sudden, when this is apparently such a common thing."

 

"SHUT UP and come on." He started marching toward _that_ aisle, hoping she was following but refusing to allow himself to look back. 

 

"What are we waiting for?" she said when he stopped at the head of the aisle. 

 

"It's right down there.  Go get what you need.  I'll be over here."  He positioned himself by a rack of paper towels and tried to look nonchalant.

 

"But how –"

 

"Just PICK something!  It's not like I know anything about… these things."  He crossed his arms and turned his head away, but kept watching Rukia out of the corner of his eye as she made her way slowly down the aisle, staring at the boxes and bundles lining the shelves.  Soon she was out of his field of vision.  He turned to face the paper towels and tried not to think about why he was here.

 

Until she forced him to, of course.

 

"Ichigo!" He almost brought down the whole rack of paper towels.  The rolls were still wobbling as he whipped his head around, scanning in both directions for anyone looking his way, and, seeing no one, bolted around the corner.

 

And jerked to a stop.  He was distracted from his plan to _cover her mouth this fucking second_ when he saw her sitting on the floor, surrounded by open boxes, their… contents… spilling onto the ground.

 

"WHAT THE FU—" he clamped his hands over his own mouth and darted over to her.  "What the fuck are you doing?!" he hissed.

 

Rukia was calmly peering into the light blue box in her hand.  "None of these boxes tells me whether it is the type of tampon Inoue showed me how to use to today.  I'm looking for the blue… applicator?"

 

He was not going to flail.  He wasn't. "You idiot, you can't just open all the boxes in the middle of the store!"

 

She looked up at him with her patented Even-Humans-Cannot-Be-That-Stupid-It-Must-Be-You expression.  "How else am I supposed to know which box contains the correct product?  All the labels are deceiving."

 

"What difference does it make?  They're all the same!  Just –"

 

"They are not at all the same!  Look," she held up one of the boxes.  He made himself look at it.  "This one is 'cardboard' and 'super' and this," she picked up another, "is 'ultra-thin' and 'plastic,' like the tampon Inoue gave me, but it is 'lite,' and she said that for the first day or two I would need –"

 

"Okay!  I get it!"

 

She was still going.  "And no one even mentioned these 'sanitary pad' things, but –"

 

"RUKIA."

 

"…Ichigo."

 

"Just. Grab one of the multi-packs.  There are multi-packs, right?  With different kinds in one box? There. And let's GO."

 

"Fine." She shoved one of the boxes at him.  He took it automatically.  A moment later he realized what he was holding. 

 

"Gah!" He tried to shove it back at her, but she was busily trying to stuff the boxes back onto the shelves.  He held the box between two fingers, keeping it at arms' length, and with the other hand grabbed Rukia's arm.  "Come on."

 

"If you're in such a rush, why don't you help me clean up, stupid?"

 

"I'm not gonna touch – ! …Anyway, you don't have to, there are people whose job it is to clean up these things."

 

She eyed the pile of boxes and loose… things… still on the floor skeptically.  "These things?  Why would –"

 

"Not _just_ these, moron." She was still staring back at the scattered _feminine products_, but she was letting him drag her toward the check out lines.  "Everything.  The whole store.  People come in and shove things around and change their mind about getting those chips when they’re in the paper towel aisle so they put them down and the employees come around and put the chips back where they belong.  Okay?  That’s their job."

 

"So the tampons –"

 

"Just. Come. On."

 

* * *

 

They got through the check-out more or less without incident – Ichigo pretended not to notice the sympathetic look the kid working the register gave him when he paid – and out of the store. 

 

Just in time to meet Keigo and Mizuiro coming out of a nearby arcade.

 

"Ichigooo!  You’ve been out with Kuchiki-san and you didn’t tell us?  How cruel!"  Keigo shouted.  Ichigo just scowled at him.  Keigo turned to Rukia.  "What have you been doing all this time? Did Ichigo buy something for the lovely Kuchiki-san?  I had no idea he was –"

 

"I didn’t buy her anything.  I just came with her to pick something up, and now she has to go."  He looked at Rukia.  Hard.  Maybe it was more of a glare. 

 

She glared back.  But then she smiled, that creepy fake smile, and turned to Keigo.  "That’s right, Asano-kun.  I’m sorry, I do have get home quickly.  I’ll see you all tomorrow.  Thank you for your help, Kurosaki-kun!"  She waved cheerfully and sauntered off, swinging her bag.

 

"Why would Kuchiki-san want to spend so much time with _Ichigo_?  Why not me?" Keigo cried into Mizuiro’s shoulder.  Mizuiro patted him consolingly.  Ichigo sighed.

 

* * *

 

Karin locked the bathroom to brush her teeth.  She didn’t always, but Ichigo and their father had been worse than usual at dinner tonight, and Yuzu had, typically, worn herself out trying to mediate.  Karin just wanted to get the hell away from all of them, but it wasn’t like she could just lock Yuzu out of their room.

 

So Karin spent a few extra minutes in the company of her reflection, behind the (relative) safety of the locked bathroom door. Dad rarely felt compelled to kick his way into the bathroom.

 

She was moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub when something in the trash caught her eye. 

 

It was a tampon wrapper.

 

She stood back up, leaning over the trash.  There was no doubt about it what it was.  But when had Yuzu…  Karin wasn’t particularly anxious to get her period – everything about it sounded unpleasant – and she had always kind of vaguely expected it was one thing Yuzu would actually get to first, but already!  They weren’t even 11 yet!

 

And Yuzu hadn’t even bothered to mention it to Karin!  Probably afraid Karin would be jealous.  But that was stupid!  Karin didn’t want her stupid period anyway.  Especially not now.

 

She turned away from the trash and spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

 

If Yuzu didn’t want to tell her, that was just fine.

 

* * *

 

Yuzu stared into the small bathroom trashcan.  It wasn’t that she minded Karin being first… even though Yuzu had thought she was safe from having to worry about this, at least for another year or two… it was just… she had thought Karin would tell her!  Not that Karin had to tell her everything, but this was important.  And it wasn’t like Karin to hide important things… was it?

 

Sometimes Yuzu got the feeling there was something going on in her family, just under the surface, something she was just barely missing, like the floaty blurs she saw that were as solid and clear as living people to Karin and Ichigo.  And no amount of wishing or worrying would make it clearer.

 

She couldn’t help worrying, though.

 

The tampon wrapper glared at her from where it lay, half-buried under a tissue. 

 

If Karin didn’t want to say anything about it… maybe she was embarrassed.  It was very early, after all.  Maybe she didn’t want Yuzu to feel jealous, or to worry about her getting cramps.  Maybe she would tell her soon.

 

But in any case… Yuzu was sure Karin wouldn’t want to hear Daddy’s congratulatory speech – or see him crying because his little girl was growing up too fast – so Yuzu would have to be careful when she emptied the bathroom trash tomorrow.

 

_END_


End file.
